LETTER XXVIII.

HILO. June 2nd

OFTEN since I finished my last letter has Hazael's reply to
Elisha occurred to me, “Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?” For
in answer to people who have said, “I hope nothing will induce you to attempt
the ascent of Mauna Loa,” I always said, “Oh, dear, no! I should never dream of
it;” or, “Nothing would persuade me to think of it!”

This morning early, Mr. Green came in, on his way to Kilauea, to which I was to
accompany him, and on my casually remarking that I envied him his further
journey, he at once asked me to join him, and I joyfully accepted the
invitation! For, indeed, my heart has been secretly set on going, and I have had
to repeat to myself fifty times a day, “no, I must not think of it, for it is
impossible.”

Mr. Green is going up well equipped with a tent, horses, a baggage mule, and a
servant, and is confident of being able to get a guide and additional mules
fifty miles from Hilo. I had to go to the Union School examination where the
Hilo world was gathered, but I could think of nothing but the future; and I can
hardly write sense, the prospect of the next week is so exciting,
page: 379 and the time for making preparations is so short. It
is an adventurous trip anyhow, and the sufferings which our predecessors have
undergone, from Commodore Wilkes downwards, make me anxious not to omit any
precaution. The distance which has to be travelled through an uninhabited
region, the height and total isolation of the summit, the uncertainty as to the
state of the crater, and the duration of its activity, with the possibility of
total failure owing to fog or strong wind, combine to make our ascent an
experimental trip.

The news of the project soon spread through the village, and as the ascent has
only once been performed by a woman, the kindly people are profuse in offers of
assistance, and in interest in the journey, and every one is congratulating me
on my good fortune in having Mr. Green for my travelling companion. I have
hunted all the beach stores through for such essentials as will pack into small
compass, and every one said “So you are going to ‘the mountain;’ I hope you'll
have a good time;” or, “I hope you'll have the luck to get up.”

Among the friends of my hosts all sorts of useful articles were produced, a camp
kettle, a camping blanket, a huge Mexican poncho, a cardigan, capacious
saddlebags, &c. Nor was Kahélé forgotten, for the last contribution was
a bag of oats! The greatest difficulty was about warm clothing, for in this
perfect climate, woollen underclothing is not necessary as in many tropical
countries, but it is absolutely essential on yonder mountain till late in the
afternoon the best intentions and the most energetic rummaging in old trunks
failed to
page: 380 produce it. At last Mrs. —, wife of
an old Scotch settler, bestowed upon me the invaluable loan of a stout flannel
shirt, and a pair of venerable worsted stockings, much darned, knitted in
Fifeshire a quarter of a century ago. When she brought them, the excellent lady
exclaimed, “Oh, what some people will do!” with an obvious personal
reference.

She tells us that her husband, who owns the ranch on the mountain at which we are
to stay the last night, has been obliged to forbid any of his natives going up
as guides, and that she fears we shall not get a guide, as the native who went
up with Mr. Whyte suffered so dreadfully from mountain sickness, that they were
obliged to help him down, and he declares that he will not go up again. Mr.
Whyte tells us that he suffered himself from vomiting and vertigo for fourteen
hours, and severely from thirst also, as the water froze in their canteens; but
I am almost well now, and as my capacity for “roughing it” has been severely
tested, I hope to “get on” much better. A party made the ascent nine months ago,
and the members of it also suffered severely, but I see no reason why cautious
people, who look well to their gear and clothing, and are prudent with regard to
taking exercise at the top, should suffer anything worse than the inconveniences
which are inseparable from nocturnal cold at a high elevation.

My preparations are completed to-night, the last good wishes have been spoken,
and we intend to leave early tomorrow morning.